Demon Child
by Half-BloodPrincess1
Summary: Demise, the all-powerful Demon King, has taken in a toddler. The 5 year old demon Ghirahim, to be exact. Ghirahim is a very excitable child, and Demise just wants a servant! But when Demise begins to care for the boy, what will they do when confronted with a jealous goddess? Hylia will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Rated T for blood/gore, minor at first, much more later.
1. Chapter 1 First Impressions

Demise scowled as he looked over the barren landscape. He ran a scaled hand through his flaming hair, smoldering eyes sweeping over the pathetic scene. All was ash. He and his hunting party had heard about this former rebel encampment most recently, and they had had no problems eliminating it.  
They had come all at once, the new king and his fearsome band, and the rebels hadn't been expecting them. Needless to say, the ambush was successful. They had swept through, torching houses and watching burned, bleeding, and dying demons scramble in vain to escape, sometimes helping them to the grave with a sword through their chest or a violent blast of magic. There had been next to no defense. Demise had really expected a stronger resistance since he had so brutally seized the throne, taking the position of Demon King through murder and malice.  
Their previous ruler had been publicly executed just a week before, and the lower demons had had to adjust rather quickly to their new dictator. Admittedly, public beatings were new, and villages had been looted to build his magnificent ebony castle.  
"But there are always changes during a shift in power," he assured himself. They'd just have to get used to his tyranny.  
He and his hunting party had now split up to find and eliminate any survivors. He began to walk through the charred remains of buildings, careful not to step on the grotesque corpses that lay everywhere. Suddenly sensing a presence to his right, he moved closer.  
He saw three figures among the ruins of a small house. Two lay dead, but the third was obviously very much alive. Its frame was that of a small child. Demise approached quietly, from behind. As he drew nearer, he heard the child's pleading voice, saw it shaking one of the corpses, a woman, and pulling on her hand gently.  
"C'mon, mommy, we have to go! It's scary here, and daddy won't listen! Wake up please, I'm scared!"  
Demise paused at this, stopping a few paces away to study the figures on the ground. The child's mother was quite pretty for a demon. Her soft brown hair laid under her, past her thin waist. Her crimson eyes stared blankly up at the sky. Brown and white bird's feathers hung from her pointed ears, and her lightly tanned skin was free of any markings except for a black cross under each eye. The other figure, presumably the father, was big and burly, though not as large as Demise himself. He had steel- gray skin and was lying on his stomach, his white hair sticky with black demon blood and his face turned to the side to reveal his lifeless eyes, ice blue in color. Thick white stripes ran from his neck down vertically, disappearing beneath his simple attire.  
"They're an attractive family," Demise thought, "or at least, they were." The woman had most likely been killed by a blast of magic, while the unfortunate father had obviously taken a blow to the head. In two quick strides, he closed the gap between himself and the frightened demon child, who, unfortunately for it, still had not seen him. He picked it up by the back of its shirt.  
Immediately tensing, it turned its head to see its captor. The little boy, for that's what it was, Demise could tell by its aura, began to struggle and kick, eyes wide with fright.  
"Let go! Please? Please don't eat me! Let go or I'll tell my daddy on you!"  
Demise smiled wickely, showing off a mouthful of sharp white fangs. Sorting out the child's rushed pleas, he answered them one by one "No, no, I'm sure you'd taste terrible, and I really don't think your 'daddy' is in any position to assist you, do you?" He gave the corpse at his feet an unceremonious kick. Glancing down, the boy whimpered slightly, ceasing his struggles for the moment.  
Demise took time to examine his victim, holding him up so that their eyes were level. The boy's snow white hair fell over one of his chocolate-brown eyes, underlined with purple shadows. His lips were white as well. His skin was grey like his father's, but his figure was slightly femenine, nothing at all like his father's muscular build. His two pointed ears were unadorned, and he was clothed in a loose red shirt and pants, with a gold diamond over his right breast pocket. He looked down to avoid seeing the terrifying man in front of him.  
Demise shook the child roughly, forcing him to make eye contact and said, "Do you understand, boy? Your parents are dead and they're never coming back. They won't wake up, and they can't save you."  
At these words, the little orphan burst into tears, covering his face with his hands and starting to kick again, screaming, "No, no, no, no!"  
"YES, child," bellowed Demise, "but don't worry..." His free hand came up to grip the boy's fragile neck "You'll be with them soon."  
Choking the life out of the boy with both hands now, he laughed when the weakling's small hands clawed at his wrists, attempting to relieve the pressure on their owner's airway. Demise squeezed harder, feeling the small bones strain under his crushing grip. This was always his favorite part of the hunt, watching his victim's expression of horror slacken, seeing their eyes cloud over when death came. But then...  
"Please-please stop! I'll...do...anything...PLEASE!"  
The boy's pitiful pleas reached his ears, slicing through his merciless mask and piercing his hard heart. Suddenly, he didn't feel like strangling the life out of the child anymore. What was he feeling? Was it...guilt? Nah.  
Sighing heavily, he loosened his hold slightly, allowing his small captive to take in air.  
"You'll do anything?" he asked casually, not wanting the boy to think he was being soft. "Y-yes! Anything!" came the hopeful reply, "I promise! Please don't hurt me again!"  
With a malicious smile, Demise lowered one hand and shifted the other so that he was holding the gasping child like a wineglass. He looked nonchalantly over at his free hand, pretending to inspect his ebony claws. The boy was still clinging to his wrist for dear life, so he wasn't hanging entirely by his neck.  
"Well, if you're so willing to serve me, I suppose I don't have to kill you." Looking back, he saw relief flood the child's face. Those little eyes looked so hopeful it made his black heart ache. "Would you be willing to be my servant...my slave...my weapon?" he questioned, curious to see if the boy really meant 'anything'.  
"Y-yes! Yes and I want down NOW!"  
Demise obliged, lowering the child back down to the ground. His little hands immediately went to soothe his bruised flesh. Demise felt 'guilt' once again plague him put he paid it no heed. "You realize that you will have to come with me, correct? You can't come back here, and you r parents will have to stay, they can't come with us," he said, not sure if the toddler completely understood what he was getting himself into. His new servant looked back down at the unmoving figures of his mother and father, nodding silently. He seemed to understand now that there was no waking them up, that they were truly gone.  
Demise reached down to pick the child up again, but a soft "wait" stopped him. The boy walked to his mother first, kissing her forehead, silent tears running down his face. He then crossed to where his father lay and wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging him as best he could.  
He straightened back up, eyes still trained on the ground, and whispered, "Goodbye, mommy. Goodbye, daddy. I love you."  
Demise was staggered by the level of raw emotion he felt emanating from this small, frail, utterly weak being. He pushed whatever weakness he felt down and reached over to scoop the boy up into his arms. Small arms wrapped around his neck and the child's tear-streaked face nuzzled his shoulder gently. Normally, he would reject such pitiful gestures, but he could see that the boy needed someone to hold onto, so he said nothing about it.  
"What is your name?" he whispered, rubbing soothing circles on the boy's back. Demise barely heard the soft reply.  
"Ghirahim."  
Demise pretended to think for a moment. "Ghirahim. Hmmm...that's an awfully long name for such a little boy isn't it? May I call you Ghira?"  
He felt a small nod against his shoulder. "Let's introduce you to the others, shall we?" And with that, he hoisted 'Ghirahim' a little higher on his side and trudged off, wondering how in the Underworld he was going to explain this one.


	2. Chapter 2 New Home

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the reviews and follows so far, I really appreciate it you guys! :D Now on with ch 2!

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Demise walked, still cradling Ghirahim, until he reached the crest of the hill they had charged from, his party's agreed meeting place. The others were already waiting for him. He supposed he'd spent more time 'playing' with little Ghira than he'd thought. He got a few questioning glances and raised eyebrows when he showed up with a child, but none dared to ask an explanation from their king.

Nevertheless, he supposed they deserved one. He stepped up before them all and, without warning, promptly dropped the child at his feet. Ghirahim landed with a thud, his lower lip quivering pathetically. He began to wail, but a growl and a pointed look from Demise silenced him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I know you're all no doubt wondering why it is that I've bothered to bring this rebel trash all the way up here, why I didn't just kill it on sight. Well, I decided that he could be of some use to me. A king needs servants, doesn't he? Slaves? And you all are too valuable as hunters and warriors and spies to do such trivial work, am I correct?" There was a murmur of assent from the group. "Well then, this boy will be my personal slave. Whatever I need him for, that's what he'll do. He'll be at my disposal, and mine only. You are not to give him any order, or harm him in any way. If I ever hear you've disobeyed these commands, the punishment will be...severe. Am I understood?"

The group answered in one voice, "Yes, King Demise!"

"Good. There should be no problems then. I'd say our work here is finished. We will head back now, it's a long trek home." Demise turned to walk away as the others gathered their supplies, momentarily forgetting his new little nuisance. A small tug on his clothing stopped him.

"What?" He glared down at the pest, who had one fist in his mouth and was staring up at him with pleading brown eyes. "Carry me," came the simple request.

Demise instantly felt rage bubble up inside his chest. How DARE this little NOTHING give him an order? How DARE he? He could crush the insolent little brat right there, and as a matter of fact, he should! He was positively FURIOUS, OUTRAGED, SICK WITH- but wait. He was really getting worked up over nothing, wasn't he? He often did. After all, he'd never really been commanded to do anything in his life so nowadays even the most innocent of requests made his blood boil. The child had simply asked to be carried, and being so young it was probably natural for him to want to be held and coddled by a guardian. But unfortunately for the toddler, Demise was NOT planning on playing the father figure. He was the Master, and Ghirahim was the servant. The sooner the boy learned that, the better.

Calmed somewhat, he gazed back down at new charge, who was staring up at him impatiently, arms raised, still waiting to be picked up.

"NO. You will walk." With that, he advanced to the front of the pool of waiting demons, flaming head held high. It was a hollow victory, sure, but a victory nonetheless. Pouting, Ghirahim got awkwardly to his feet and trotted after him, stumbling more than once. A few of the younger female demons giggled at him, waving, but the others ignored him entirely. What the king's slave did was not their business, they reasoned.

Ghirahim toddled all the way to the front of the group, where Demise was. He had to run to keep up with the king's long strides. Glancing down at him, Demise said nothing, but had to smile a little at the boy's fierce determination. He looked a bit comical, jogging alongside the much taller demon, panting heavily, his abnormally long tongue lolling out of his mouth.

After about an hour, they reached the edge of the Lanayru Sand Sea. The quicksand was lethal to any human who stepped into it, for it would smother them if their head went below the surface, but fortunately most demons were tall enough so that their feet could touch the bedrock below without their head being submerged. The Sand Sea was shallowest at the edges, and got deeper the further in you got. Without thinking, Demise simply walked on and waded through the sucking sand, which only covered him halfway up to his knees at first. The others followed, not at all hindered by the sinkhole. Ghirahim was in up to his waist, but made no complaint, dutifully following his newfound Master. Eventually though, the sand was up to his neck, and he began to panic slightly. Raising his left hand, he snapped his fingers to get the king's attention. "Hey! Listen! You HAVE to carry me RIGHT NOW!"

Demise looked at him, a dangerous expression on his face. "Oh I HAVE to, do I? I don't think so. You WILL walk." Looking ahead again, he simply ignored the little pain in the neck and plodded on.

But Ghirahim continued to be a thorn in his side, pulling on his arms to slow him down, and squealing "Hey! Listen!" in that high-pitched little voice of his. It was almost unbearably annoying.

Finally, Demise had had enough. He stopped suddenly, stepping to the side to allow the others to pass. Then he turned his attention to Ghirahim, who by now was up to his chin in the grit. Without a word, he snatched the boy up by his arm and, brushing most of the earth off of him, allowed him to climb onto his back, wrapping his legs around the king's waist, and his arms around his neck. A few demons looked back to see what their leader was up to, but looked ahead again, trying to stifle their laughter when they saw the great Demon King Demise, Ruler of the Underworld bowed over, carrying a victorious, giggling child on his back.

It was a 4-day walk back, and soon everyone was growing tired of the constant questions and "Are we there yet?"'s from the excitable kid. They only stopped to rest once, and then only for a few hours. The adults could go without sleep for a while, but Ghirahim was utterly exhausted by the time they got to Demise's abode. He was curled up in the ruler's arms and snoring softly as they approached the castle. He awoke when Demise softly jostled him, wanting the boy to see his new home.

It really was a magnificent estate, the grounds immaculately groomed, blooming with black and red roses, every tile on the parapets shined and gleaming for the great king's return. The fortress was enormous, rectangular with four high towers and inside, over 500 grand rooms. And standing there in front of the drawbridge in all her glory, her arms spread wide in welcome, was the Goddess Hylia.


	3. Chapter 3 Hylia

Ghirahim froze, going rigid in Demise's arms, his mind blank with terror. The….the goddess! The horrible demon-slaying monster his parents had told him about, standing right in front of him! His father had said that she was the only being more wicked than their tyrant king. (Although, at the moment Demise was hardly a concern, seeing as how through most of the journey to the castle Ghirahim had gotten his way without much trouble.) He also remembered his mother's rants on how "that wretched Hylia has the king wrapped around her finger! He's bad enough by himself; we won't stand a chance as long as she's still around! She's the real ruler around here, you mark my words, and he's her loyal dog, practically bowing to her every whim!"

Sorting it all out in his head (hey, there's a lot of hard words there for a toddler!) he deduced that this was certainly _not good._ What if Hylia told Demise she didn't want him to have another servant? What then? Would he go back on his word? Would he….kill him after all?

With wide eyes, Ghirahim watched as the goddess ran forward, seemingly to embrace the king, but she stopped short when she saw the small figure huddled in his monstrous arms, looking shocked. However, she quickly recovered, and, forcing herself to keep a smile on her face, stepped up to the king, locking eyes with him. She gestured vaguely in Ghirahim's direction.

"Who is this?" Her voice was beautiful, but with an icy edge to it that suggested she was mere seconds away from losing her temper.

"This? Ah…." It seemed that Demise had already forgotten his new possession. "Yes dear, _this._" She now grabbed the quivering boy's arm, causing him to let out a small, terrified squeak. "Oh! You mean the boy!" Demise shook his head as if to clear it, shifting Ghirahim in his arms so that he was facing her. "Well, I just….I believe that we could use another servant, you know, and….well….I believe he has potential….I….just….well, I…." It was clear that, when confronted by his lover, Demise's capabilities were reduced to that of an oozing ChuChu. Hylia, taking advantage of his apparent weakness stepped forward until they were nearly nose to nose, with Ghirahim being slightly crushed between them.

"Well _I _was told that you were simply going to take care of a rebel threat, taking no prisoners. Yet, here you are, _cradling_ a mere _child_, and one that is clearly incapable of coherent speech. And you, sweetheart, say he shows 'potential' and want to take him as a _servant_?"

"I….yes." Demise cowered slightly under Hylia's smoldering gaze. Hylia sighed, stepping back a bit to examine the terrified child, who by now was shaking like a leaf. She took in his overall appearance with an air of superiority. She knew she was the final word on this pitiful creature's life or death.

"I don't know dear, it is quite puny," she said, lips quirked upwards in a condescending smirk. "I doubt it'd even be worth keeping around to do the laundry." Ghirahim, suddenly angered by her mockery, spoke up. "I AM NOT AN IT!" he shouted, furious, "And I'm not puny either! I'm big and strong- my mommy said so! So there!" He stuck his tongue out at her, suddenly unafraid of any consequences. Nobody could insult him like that and get away with it! (His daddy had told him that.) His bravado was forgotten, however, when, Hylia, eyes flashing, suddenly snatched him from Demise and held him aloft, thankfully not by his still sore throat. She took him by his shoulders and held him at eye level, practically growling out her next words, but speaking quietly so only Ghirahim could hear her: "I don't think you realize who exactly you are dealing with, you insignificant little _wretch._ I should have you thrown to the dogs, like the insolent piece of trash that you are. But I'd hate to upset my dear Demise, and he seems to like you. So, for the time being, I'll allow you to live. But if you _ever _speak to me in that tone again, or disrespect me in any way, you will sorely regret it. Understand?"

Ghirahim nodded frantically, mind blank with terror once more after hearing Hylia's threat. With a satisfied smirk, she set him down on the ground where he stayed, frozen, not sure if he was allowed to move. Demise, clearing his throat awkwardly, attempted to speak again. "Um….so…what do you think, I mean….Can we…." He stopped there, his brain seemingly working enough to realize how stupid he'd sound if he said-"Can we keep him?"

Hylia smiled, embracing him, the emotion not reaching her still cold eyes. "Dear, I think he'll make a wonderful servant….compliant, loyal, obedient….right, boy?" She didn't even look his way, but the threat in her voice was obvious. Ghirahim managed a squeaky "Yes ma'am" in response, standing shakily to his feet.

Together, the trio walked into the great castle before them, the smallest of which didn't know how he was going to survive a night, much less the rest of his life, living with a bipolar king and a Goddess out to get him.


End file.
